University of Virginia Library

Actus secundus.

Enter Ascanio, and Ioculo his Page.
Asca.
Away Ioculo.

Io.
Here sir, at hand.

Asca.
Ioculo, where is she?

Io.
I know not.

Asca.
When went she?

Io.
I know not.

Asca.
Which way went she?

Io.
I know not.

Asca.
Where should I seeke her?

Io.
I know not.

Asca.
When shall I find her?

Io.
I know not.

Asca.
A vengeance take thee slaue, what dost thou know?

Io.
Marry sir, that I doo know.

Asca.
What villaine?

Io.
And you be so testie, go looke:
What a coyles here with you?
If we knew where she were, what need we seeke her?
I thinke you are lunaticke: where were you
When you should haue lookt after her? now you
Go crying vp and downe after your wench, like
A Boy had lost his horne booke.

Asca.
Ah my sweet Boy.

Io.
Ah my sweet Maister: nay I can giue you as good
Words as you can giue me: alls one for that.

Asca.
What canst thou giue me no reliefe?

Io.
Faith sir, there comes not one morsel of comfort
From my lips, to sustaine that hungry mawe
Of your miserie, there is such a dearth at this time,
God amend it.

Asca.
A Ioculo, my breast is full of griefe,
And yet my hope, that only wants reliefe.

Io.
Your brest and my belly, are in two contrary kaies,
You walke to get stomacke to your meate,
And I walke to get meate to my stomacke:
Your breast's full, and my belli's emptie.
If they chance to part in this case, God send them
Merry meeting: that my belly be ful, and your brest empty.

Asca.
Boy, for the loue that euer thou didst owe,
To thy deare master, poore Ascanio,
Racke thy proou'd wits, vnto the highest straine,
To bring me backe Eurymine againe.

Io.
Nay master, if wit could do it, I could tell you
More: but if it euer be done, the very legeritie
Of the feete must do it: these ten nimble bones
Must do the deed: Ile trot like a little dog:
Theres not a bush so big as my beard,
But Ile be peeping in it: theres not a Coate but
Ile search euery corner: if she be aboue, or
Beneath, ouer the ground, or vnder, Ile finde her out.

Asca.
Stay Ioculo: alas it cannot be:
If we should part, I loose both her and thee:
The woods are wide: and wandring thus about,
Thou maist be lost: and not my Loue found out.

Io.
I pray you let me goe.

Asca.
I pray thee stay.

Io.
Ifaith ile runne.

Asca.
And doest not know which way.

Io.
Any way: alls one, ile drawe drie foote:
If you send not to seeke her, you may lye
Here long enough, before she come to seeke you:
She little thinkes that you are hunting for her
In these quarters.

Asca.
Ah Ioculo, before I leaue my Boy,
Of this worlds comfort, now my only ioy:
Seest thou this place: vpon this grassie bed,
With sommers gawdie dyaper besped.
He lyes downe.
Vnder these shadowes shall my dwelling be:
Till thou returne, sweet Ioculo to me.

Io.
And if my Conuoy be not cut off by the way,
It shall not be long before I be with you.
He speakes to the people.
Well, I pray you looke to my maister: for
Here I leaue him amongst you: and if I
Chaunce to light on the wench, you shall heare
Of me by the next winde.

Exit Ioculo, Ascanio solus.
Asca.
In vaine I feare, I beate my braines about,
Proouing by search, to finde my mistresse out:
Eurymine, Eurymine, retorne:
And with thy presence guild the beautious morne:
And yet I feare to call vpon thy name,
The pratling Eccho, should she learne the same,
The last words accent sheele no more prolong,
But beare that sound vpon her airie tong.
Adorned with the presence of my Loue,
The woods I feare, such secret power shal proue
As they'll shut vp each path: hide euery way,
Because they still would haue her go astray:
And in that place would alwaies haue her seene,
Only because they would be euer greene:
And keepe the wingged Quiristers still there,
To banish winter cleane out of the yeare.
But why persist I to bemone my state,
When she is gone, and my complaint too late:
A drowsie dulnes closeth vp my sight,
O powerfull sleepe, I yeeld vnto thy might.

He falles a sleepe.
Enter Iuno, and Iris.
Iuno.
Come hither Iris.

Iris.
Iris is at hand,
To attend Ioues wife; great Iunos hie command.

Iuno.
Iris I know I do thy seruice proue,
And euer since I was the wife of Ioue
Thou hast bene readie when I called still,
And alwayes most obedient to my will:
Thou seest how that imperiall Queene of loue,
With all the Gods, how she preuailes aboue,
And still against great Iunos hests doth stand,
To haue all stoupe and bowe, at her command:
Her Doues and Swannes, and Sparrowes, must be graced.
And on Loues Aultars, must be highly placed.
My starry Peacocks, which doth beare my state:
Scaresly alowed within his pallace gate:
And since her selfe, she thus preferd doth see,
Now the proud huswife will contend with mee:
And practiseth her wanton pranckes to play
With this Ascanio, and Eurymine.
But Loue shall know, in spight of all his skill,
Iuno's a woman, and will haue her will.

Iris.
What is my Goddesse will? may Iris aske?

Iuno.
Iris, on thee I do impose this taske,
To crosse proud Venus, and her purblind Lad,
Vntill the mother, and her brat be mad,
And with each other, set them so at ods,
Till to their teeth they curse, and ban the Gods.

Iris.
Goddes, the graunt consists alone in you,

Iuno.
Then mark the course which now you must pursue.
Within this ore-growne Forrest, there is found
A duskie Caue, thrust lowe into the ground:
So vgly darke, so dampie and steepe,
As for his life the sunne durst neuer peepe
Into the entrance: which doth so afright
The very day, that halfe the world is night.
Where fennish fogges, and vapours do abound:
There Morpheus doth dwell within the ground,
No crowing Cocke, nor waking bell doth call,
Nor watchfull dogge disturbeth sleepe at all.
No found is heard in compasse of the hill,
But euerything is quiet, whisht, and still.
Amid this Caue, vpon the ground doth lie,
A hollow plancher, all of Ebonie
Couer'd with blacke, whereon the drowsie God,
Drowned in sleepe, continually doth nod:
Go Iris go, and my commaundment take,
And beate against the doores till sleepe awake,
Bid him from me, in vision to appeare,
Vnto Ascanio the lieth slumbring heare.
And in that vision, to reueale the way,
How he may finde the faire Eurymine.

Iris.
Madam, my seruice is at your command,

Iuno.
Dispatch it then, good Iris out of hand.
My Peacocks and my Charriot shall remaine,
About the shore, till thou returne againe.
Exit Iuno.

Iris.
About the businesse now that I am sent,
To sleepes blacke Caue, I will incontinent:
And his darke cabine, boldly will I shake,
Vntill the drowsie lumpish God awake:
And such a bounsing at his Caue Ile keepe,
That if pale death, seaz'd on the eyes of sleepe,
Ile rowse him vp, that when he shall me heare,
Ile make his locks stand vp on end with feare.
Be silent aire, whil'st Iris in her pride
Swifter then thought, vpon the windes doth ride.
What Somnus what Somnus, Somnus.
Strikes
Pauses a litle.
What wilt thou not awake? art thou still so fast?
Nay then yfaith, Ile haue an other cast.
What Somnus Somnus I say?

Strikes againe.
Som.
Who calles at this time of the day?
What a balling dost thou keepe?
A vengeance take thee, let me sleepe,

Iris.
Vp thou drowsie God, I say,
And come presently away,
Or I will beate vpon this doore,
That after this, thou sleep'st no more.

Som.
Ile take a nap, and come annon.

Iris.
Out you beast, you blocke, you stone:
Come, or at thy doore Ile thunder,
Til both heauen and hel do wonder, Somnus I say.

Som.
A vengeance split thy chaps asunder.

Iris.
What Somnus?

Enter Somnus.
Som.
Iris I thought it should be thee.
How now mad wench, what wouldst with me?

Iris.
From mightie Iuno, Ioues immortall wife,
Somnus I come: to charge thee on thy life,
That thou vnto this Gentleman appeere,
And in this place, thus as he lyeth heere,
Present his mistres to his inward eies,
In as true manner, as thou canst deuise.

Som.
I would thou wert hangd for waking me.
Three sonnes I haue, the eldest Morpheus hight:
He shewes of man, tha shape or sight.
The second Icelor, whose beheasts
Doth shewe the formes of birds and beasts.
Phantasor for the third, things lifeles hee:
Chuse which like thee of these three.

Iris.
Morpheus: if he in humane shape appeare.

Som.
Morpheus come forth in perfect likenes heere,
Of, how call ye the Gentlewoman?

Iris.
Eurymine.

Som.
Of Eurymine: and shewe this Gentleman,
What of his mistres is become.

Kneeling downe by Ascanio.
Enter Eurymine, to be supposed Morpheus.
Mor.
My deare Ascanio, in this vision see,
Eurymine doth thus appeare to thee:
As soone as sleepe hath left thy drowsie eies,
Follow the path that on thy right hand lies,
An aged Hermit thou by chaunce shalt find,
That there hath bene, time almost out of mind:
This holy man, this aged reuerent Father,
There in the woods, doth rootes and simples gather:
His wrinckled browe, tells strengths past long ago:
His beard as white, as winters driuen snow.
He shall discourse the troubles I haue past,
And brings vs both togither at the last.
Thus she presents her shadow to thy sight,
That would her person gladly if she might.

Iris.
See how he catches to imbrace the shade.

Mor.
This vision fully doth his powers inuade.
And when the heate shall but a litle slake:
Thou then shalt see him presently awake.

Som.
Hast thou ought else, that I may stand in sted?

Iris.
No Somnus, no: go back vnto thy bed:
Iuno she shall reward thee for thy paine.

Som.
Then good night Iris, Ile to rest againe.

Iris.
Morpheus farwell: to Iuno I will flie.

Mor.
And I to sleepe, as fast as I can hie.
Exeunt.
Ascanio starting, sayes.
Eurymine: Ah my good Angell stay:
O vanish not so suddenly away.
O stay my Goddes, whither doest thou flie?
Returne my sweet Eurymine, tis I.
Where art thou speake? Let me behold thy face:
Did I not see thee, in this very place
Euen now? Here did I not see thee stand?
And here thy feete did blesse the happie land?
Eurymine: Oh wilt thou not attend?
Flie from thy foe: Ascanio is thy friend.
The fearfull Hare, so shuns the labouring hound,
And so the Deare eschues the Hunts-man wound.
The trembling Foule, so flies the Falcons gripe:
The Bond-man, so, his angry maisters stripe.
I follow not, as Phœbus Daphne did:
Nor as the Dog pursues the trembling Kid.
Thy shape it was: alas I sawe not thee:
That sight were fitter for the Gods then mee.
But if in dreames, there any truth be found,
Thou art within the compas of this ground.
Ile raunge the woods, and all the groues about,
And neuer rest, until I find thee out.

Exit
Enter at one doore, Mopso singing.
Mop.
Terlitelo, Terlitelo, terlitelee, terlo,
So merrily this shepheards Boy
His horne that he can blow,
Early in a morning, late, late, in an euening,
And euer sat this little Boy,
So merrily piping.

Enter at the other doore, Frisco singing.
Fris.
Can you blow the little horne?
Weell, weell, and very weell.
And can you blow the little horne,
Amongst the leaues greene?

Enter Ioculo in the midst singing.
Io.
Fortune my foe, why doest thou frowne on mee?
And will my fortune neuer better bee:
Wilt thou I say, for euer breed my paine?
And wilt thou not restore my Ioyes againe?

Frisco.
Cannot a man be merry in his owne walke,
But a must be thus encombred?

Io.
I am disposed to be melancholly,
And I cannot be priuate, for one villaine or other.

Mop.
How the diuel stumbled this case of rope-ripes in-into my way?

Fris.
Sirrha, what art thou? and thou?

Io.
I am Page to a Courtier.

Mop.
And I a Boy to a Shepheard.

Fris.
Thou art the Apple-squier to an Eawe,
And thou sworne brother to a bale of false dice.

Io.
What art thou?

Fris.
I am a Boy to a Raunger.

Io.

An Out-lawe by authoritie: one that neuer sets marke
of his own goods, nor neuer knowes how he comes by other
mens.

Mop.
That neuer knowes his cattell, but by their hornes.

Fris.
Sirrah, so you might haue said of your masters sheep.

Io.
I marry: this takes fier like touch powder,
And goes off with a huffe.

Fris.

They come of crick-cracks, and shake their tayles
like a squib.

Io.

Ha you Rogues, the very steele of my wit, shall strike
fier from the flint of your vnderstandings: haue you not
heard of me?

Mop.

Yes, if you be that Ioculo that I take you for, we
haue heard of your exployts, for cosoning of some seuen,
and thirtie Alewiues, in the Villages here about.

Io.

A wit, as nimble as a Sempsters needle, or a girles finger
at her Buske poynt.

Mop.

Your iest goes too low sir.

Fris.

O but tis a tickling iest.

Io.

Who wold haue thought to haue found this in a plaine
villaine, that neuer woare better garment, then a green Ierkin?

Frisco.

O Sir, though you Courtiers haue all the honour,
You haue not all the wit.

Mop.

Soft sir, tis not your witte can carry it away in this
company.

Io.

Sweet Rogues, your companie to me, is like musick to
a wench at midnight: when she lies alone, and could wish,
yea marry could she.

Fris.

And thou art as welcom to me, as a new poking stick
to a Chamber mayd.

Mop.
But soft, who comes here?
Enter the Faieries, singing and dauncing.
By the Moone we sport and play,
With the night begins our day:
As we daunce the deaw doth fall,
Trip it little vrchins all:
Lightly as the little Bee,
Two by two, and three by three:
And about go we, and about go wee.

Io.
What Mawmets are these?

Fris.
O they be the Fayries that haunt these woods.

Mop.
O we shall be pincht most cruelly.

1 Fay.
Will you haue any musick Sir?

2 Fay.
Will you haue any fine musicke?

3 Fay.
Most daintie musicke?

Mop.
We must set a face on't now, theres no flying.
No Sir: we are very merry I thanke you.

1 Fay.
O but you shall Sir.

Fris.
No, I pray you saue your labour.

2 Fay.
O Sir, it shall not cost you a penny.

Io.
Where be your Fiddles?

3 Fay.
You shall haue most daintie Instruments Sir.

Mop.
I pray you, what might I call you?

1 Fay.
My name is Penny.

Mop.
I am sory I cannot purse you.

Fris.
I pray you sir, what might I call you?

2 Fay.
My name is Cricket.

Fris.
I would I were a Chimney for your sake.

Io.
I pray you, you prettie litle fellow, whats your name?

3 Fay.
My name is little, little Pricke.

Io.
Little, little Pricke? ô you are a daungerous Fayrie,
And fright all the little wenches in the Country,
Out of their beds.
I care not whose hand I were in, so I were out of yours.

1 Fay.
I do come about the coppes,
Leaping vpon flowers toppes:
Then I get vpon a flie,
Shee carries me aboue the skie:
And trip and goe.

2 Fay.
When a deawe drop falleth downe,
And doth light vpon my crowne,
Then I shake my head and skip:
And about I trip.

3 Fay.
When I feele a gyrle a sleepe,
Vnderneath her frock I peepe,
There to sport, and there I play,
Then I byte her like a flea:
And about I skip.

Io.
I, I thought where I should haue you.

1 Fay.
Wilt please you daunce sir?

Io.
Indeed sir, I cannot handle my legges.

2 Fay.
O you must needs daunce and sing:
Which if you refuse to doo,
We will pinch you blacke and blew.
And about we goe.

[1 Fay., 2 Fay., 3 Fay.]
They all daunce in a Ring, and sing as followeth.